Lord of Casterly Rock Part One: River
by Stillhasclaws
Summary: Jaime Lannister has been mocked all his life for breaking vows. But his Kingsguard oaths and loyalty to his sister have come into conflict with his familial duty as Tywin's legacy begins to crumble. In the first of three stories, the death of Walder Frey has sent shockwaves through the Riverlands and loyalties will be tested as players new and old scramble to pick up the pieces.


Prologue

Jaime

Jaime thought the Stoney Sept had looked bleak the last time he was there. It had been a whole town then, before the Mountain made it half a town. Its drab iron gates had stood upright, protecting the town from men who would pillage the town and burn down every third house. _Not a man_ \- Jaime thought - _a wild dog_ \- whom he had let off the leash. He had no love for any of the Cleganes, but even the Mountain That Rides had been preferable to the creature Cersei had created. Jaime shuttered to think of her. The coldness in her eyes as empty as "Ser Robert Strong."

That was behind him now, as he entered the dreary forsaken town in a muddy rag of a cloak, his white cloak and shiny armor miles behind. There was just one last thing he had to do to make it official, the only reason he would ever risk recognition in a town like this.

The misery was worse than Flea Bottom. Rather than starving masses, here were starving individuals. Not lining the streets in the hope of profiting from begging, but rather utterly without hope, going about their work with their heads to the ground. An old man hobbled by, his leg twisted grotesquely backwards so he had to drag in more than walk on it. _A fellow cripple._

He passed through the town square, around a dry fountain littered with trash, excrement, and the crumbled remains of a stone fish. A Tully trout, if Jaime recalled. A few scorched and barren trees surrounded the square, and what appeared to have once been a lively marketplace was now utterly deserted.

At the top of the hill, a small holdfast towered over the town, guarding the crumbled ruins of what had once been a simple yet beautiful sept. Jaime dismounted outside the holdfast and knocked on the door. A frail, bald man in a grey cloak opened the slit.

"Excuse me, sir," Jaime said. "Sorry to bother you. I didn't know that the sept here had been destroyed. Could you tell me where the septons are staying?"

"Why, they are in here, young man." He didn't look at Jaime as he spoke, but rather appeared to be blind. "You must be a stranger to not know about the sept's destruction. Only Septon Mulcher survived, and he has taken refuge in the holdfast. May I ask who's calling for him?"

"Simply a man seeking the mercy of the gods."

"Aren't we all. But your name, young man?"

"Darnell."

"Very good." He walked away, leaving Jaime standing alone in the frigid air.

Moments later, he heard footsteps again, and a scrawny young woman opened the door and showed him the way. Jaime followed her up the spiral steps to the only other room in the holdfast, containing two beds and little else. The old man sat in silence on one bed and another, only slightly younger man in septon's robes sat talking with a much younger girl. The septon looked up as they entered the room, studying Jaime's face.

"Hello, my son. Step forward. Darnell, was it?"

Jaime stepped closer to him, clearly making the septon uncomfortable. "If you don't mind, your holiness, I would like to speak to you alone. I have something to confess."

He thought a moment, then nodded, patting the girl on the hand. The two women headed out the door, but the old man remained seated. "Calen," the septon snapped, jerking the blind man to life.

"I apologize for him, and for the accommodations," the septon said as the door closed. "In these times, we peasantry must make do. But I suppose you don't know much about how the peasantry live, do you?"

"You know who I am?"

"No, but you have the look of a lord about you. You try to hide it, but your eyes still betray the way you look down on him, on all this town. What is your real name, Darnell?"

"Ser Jaime of the house Lannister, Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock."

"Ah. The Kingslayer. My apologies again, I'm sure you despise that name, but it's the name you have been given by many. Lord of Casterly Rock, however, is not. Unless my age has failed me, are you not still a member of the Kingsguard? Sworn to hold no lands?"

"There is no Kingsguard. King Tommen is dead."

The septon closed his eyes and began to pray.

"I'm not here to talk about vows or duty. I come merely to ask a favor," Jaime continued, adjusting his cloak to reveal the hilt of his shortsword. "And I'll leave with what I came for one way or another."

"It is not my intention to hinder you so long as your request does not go against the will of the gods."

"You have the seal of the seven, do you not? I would use it to send some letters."

"Ah. To send letters under false pretenses, no?" Jaime grasped his sword. "I do not need to know the contents or purpose of these letters, and thus I do not sin." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a seal of the seven pointed star. Jaime relaxed and took it.

"I thank your holiness, and if you don't mind, I will also require lodgings for the night."

"If this were my home, I would gladly offer it to you, but as my home has been destroyed, this holdfast belongs to Calen and his daughters. As you can see, we are quite crowded as is. You would likely be more comfortable at the Peach, just by the market. They always have a bed to spare these days for a small amount of coin. I would not share your identity with them though, otherwise they would likely up the fare."

"I thank your holiness. I will return this seal in the morning. I trust you have ravens for each of the seven kingdoms."

"Indeed we do. And King's Landing. Seven blessings on you, my son."

Jaime purchased a room from the mistress at the Peach. When she showed disappointment that he refused any other services, he doubled the price to ensure complete privacy.

Alone at last, he pulled out the six letters he had written over the past few weeks and lit a candle to begin sealing them. He had just one left.

"My dearest sister…"

It was well into the night and onto his second candle by time he finished writing. He looked over it once, checked the other six, and blew out the candle, forgetting to seal them. He could do that in the morning. The night was cool and windy. He had shut the window to keep the candle from blowing out, but now it was black as pitch in the room, and the wooden walls did little to keep out the cold.

As he climbed into bed, he heard a steady creak through the wall. Hardly unexpected in such an establishment, but it was awfully late. The creaking got louder. He fumbled in the dark for his shortsword. He had left it on the desk. Cautiously, he crawled across the room. The creaking got closer then stopped outside his door. As he grabbed the sword, he swore he could hear whispering voices.

The door creaked open, letting the moonlight in. Jaime slinked into the corner, hiding in the shadows, while two fools stepped right into the light. Both held long knives and kept up their guards as they adjusted to the room.

Jaime had little time to strike, but still had surprise on his side. With a yell, he brought down his sword on the nearest of them, sinking it into his shoulder. He let out a horrid scream and crumpled to the ground.

The second attacker made a similar sound as Jaime raised his blood soaked blade to him. He backed up and stumbled onto the bed. This was too easy. Jaime pressed his blade against the attacker's throat and leaned against his trembling body.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" Jaime seethed. It was still too dark to make out any features. The other attacker moaned behind him.

"Lord Vance!" he shouted. "We weren't here to kill you, m'lord, I swear it. We were to take you alive."

"Lord Vance?" House Vance held Wayfarer's Rest and Atranta, but was rather small and weak as far as Jaime knew. "What gives him the right to arrest a Lannister?"

The air left the man beneath him at the word "Lannister." "No idea, m'lord. For the murder of his father-in-law. That's all I was told, m'lord."

Father-in-law? Who had the Vances married? Jaime struggled to even remember a Vance's name.

There was a crash down below. "What on earth?" The mistress shouted.

Jaime swiftly slit the fool's throat and collected his things.

"Sorry ma'am, but we need to get through," he heard a gruff voice from below. He threw open the window to look down on a small armed unit standing below.

Another crash below and a yell, as if the mistress had been shoved aside. He tossed the seal, the letters, the candle into his bag and ran out the door. Torchlight flickered from below as footsteps pounded up the stairs. The hall window was open, facing a back alley. Jaime jumped through, falling on his face as he landed, unable to catch himself with no free hand. He picked himself as the shouting resumed above.

Jaime could still see the torchlights just down the road as he frantically slammed the knocker on the holdfast door. It felt like ages before the younger girl descended the stairs with a candle.

"Let me in!" Jaime hissed as she unlocked the door. "And get the septon. Hurry!"

Terrified, she ran up the stairs, while he sat idly. The town was quiet, but he listened for movement outside. Finally, the septon came.

"The ravens! I need the ravens now."

"Alright. They're out back. Have patience, child."

Jaime drew his sword. "I don't have time for patience, and neither do you."

He pulled out a key and opened the back door, leading Jaime to the yard. "Apologies, my lord, for keeping you waiting."

Rushing outside, he set down the bag and pulled out the letters. "Seven hells, they're not sealed. Give me the light."

He held them up, handing them to the septon. "Sunspear, Highgarden, Riverrun, The Eyrie, Pyke, Winterfell…" He paused on the last one, reading it once more.

"Your sister," the septon observed. "King's Landing, I presume?"

Without a word, Jaime lowered the last letter to the candle and let the flames engulf it midair.

The yard lit up as the paper burned, but was only dark again for a brief second before torches shone, approaching the front of the holdfast.

"I do wish I had more time, but I'm afraid I must ask you to seal and deliver these yourself."

"And you want them sealed with the seven-pointed star, my lord?"

"Yes. I'm afraid the Lannister lion is not as well received as it once was. They're all signed in my name, I assure you. I suppose I can't stop you from reading them now."

The knocker echoed through the holdfast.

"Do you have a horse I can borrow?" Jaime asked.

"Only one for the four of us, my lord, which Calen needs to-" Jaime grabbed him by the collar, raising his sword. "In the side yard, my lord."

"Much thanks, House Lannister is in your debt," Jaime released him and ran off before he could receive his seven blessings. He cut the horse's rope as he heard the girl answer the door, then got it to a full gallop on the main road before the foot soldiers could keep up. As he expected, there were more guards outside the shattered remains of the gate, but he disappeared into the night before they could stir.


End file.
